


Coffee

by pterodactyldrops



Series: good as new [6]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Coffee, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Pre-Relationship, a little oh no he's hot moment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 22:09:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5557361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pterodactyldrops/pseuds/pterodactyldrops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even though the can said the contents had expired in 2079, Molly was positive the coffee was still good.</p><p>Prompt: Trying so hard to make a good pot of coffee, only to fail miserably--the other person doesn't mind at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee

Even though the can said the contents had expired in 2079, Molly was positive the coffee was still good.

Besides, in her good ol’ college days she’d eaten plenty of barely expired food. Nate had always worried that the food’d be the death of her, but the worse she’d ever gotten was quest stomach and a night spent in the restroom.

Maybe 200 years was a little extreme. But things were different now. She was truly desperate.

She examined the can. A rosey cheeked wife (whose shade of lipstick Molly would kill for at this point) held a hot pot of coffee. An effortless grin graced her face. Her husband–dark, broad, broody, and just the way Molly liked ‘em–sat at a perfect kitchen table, cradling a steaming cup of joe between his large hands.

Molly stabbed through the picturesque scene with her knife.

The coffee beans spilled across the table. Molly flipped the knife in her hands and began pounding the handle against the beans, bashing them into coarse, uneven pieces.

It didn’t smell like coffee. Didn’t really smell like much of anything, though. That had to be a good sign, right?

“Uh,” MacCready said somewhere behind Molly, “Got something against coffee?”

“Axes to…” She gave one last twice of her knife handle against what was left of the beans, “ _Grind._ ”

“Cute,” MacCready said, rolling his eyes at her.

“I try,” Molly replied. She gathered the grounds and placed them into a medical bandage they’d gotten from a hospital a week ago. It was clean. Mostly.

She walked over to the chem station and checked on the water. The hot plate was orange, and steam rose from the only not-cracked beaker Molly owned.

“What’re you doing with all your junk?” MacCready asked.

“Making coffee,” Molly responded. She placed a burnt potholder over her hand and removed the beaker from over the hot plate.

“You,” MacCready said, voice low and annoyed, “Had me haul all this shi–stuff just so you could make coffee?”

“You got your caps, didn’t you?” Molly carefully poured the boiling water over the coffee grounds, trying not to splash herself. The medical bandage kept the grounds in place, stopped them from mixing with the water.

“Yeah,” MacCready muttered, shoving his hands into his duster. “250–”

“ _200_ ,” Molly reminded him. She fiddled with the dials on her Pip-boy until she found a clock.

“200,” MacCready confirmed through gritted teeth, “Seems like an awful lot to pay for a pack Brahmin.”

Steam rose from the bowl that held the coffee grounds and water. She dripped more water over the top, keeping an eye on her Pip-boy, until she was satisfied.

“Boss?”

She removed the bandage bag. The water left behind was a brown color. It looked like coffee. It’d have to be good enough.

“Earth to Molly?”

She grabbed the coffee mugs from the pile of junk she and MacCready still had to sort through and divvy up. She poured the liquid into them. The porcelain bowl burned her hands–it was hot from the water that’d been turned into coffee.

She dropped a sugar cube into each cup.

“Come on–”

Molly shoved one of the cups into MacCready’s hands. “For you,” she told him.

MacCready frowned at her. “What’s this for?”

Molly grinned. “For being the best pack horse–Brahmin money can buy.”

He sniffed the drink. “Is this poison? Are you trying to poison me? Usually people just fire me.”

“It’s coffee,” she explained. “I thought–doesn’t matter, just drink. It’s good.”

MacCready lifted the mug to his lips and swallowed, looking as though he was in pain.

“Well?”

“It’s–” he coughed. “It’s good. Yeah. Uh, real good, boss.”

Molly, grinning, took a gulp of own coffee.

And immediately started choking.

“Oh my god,” she said, gripping the chem station counter. “Oh–god–shit, that’s vile.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty bad,” MacCready said, laughing. “More sugar?”

“Definitely,” Molly agreed, dropping half a dozen more cubes into each of their mugs.

She took another sip (no more large gulps for her). It was…it didn’t taste like coffee. More like sugar-sweet brown stuff.

Molly sighed. Add coffee to the list of things forever different in the Commonwealth.

“You know,” MacCready slurped, “It’s not that bad.”

“You are a terrible liar,” Molly said.

“No, really,” MacCready protested. “It’d go with a shot of whiskey.”

She rolled her eyes at him.

MacCready reached into his duster and pulled out a flask. He flashed her a grin. “C’mon, boss.”

MacCready was tall. A head taller than her at least. And lanky, with arms that hung down too long. He was blond, too, and had facial hair and totally wasn’t her type. Not like the guy on the coffee can. Not like Nate had been.

But that smile? That smile, Molly decided, was something special.

“All right,” Molly said, stepping towards him. “Let’s try it.”


End file.
